


Plumb Luck

by Golyadkin



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: "I love this!" says AO3 user, Alternate Universe, M/M, Plumber AU, and now i have developed characters, because why not, connor's a dancer with unhealthy coping habits, critics are calling this fic hilarious and heartwarming, excessive descriptions of plumbing, i wrote this whole fic in two days because i happened to see a prompt for a different fandom, kevin's a plumber with anxiety, rave reviews, sexual content but like just barely, who the hell let that happen, why the heck not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:45:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16360133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golyadkin/pseuds/Golyadkin
Summary: Kevin Price is a plumber who would rather not be a plumber, and, to be quite honest, he isn't very good at it. Connor McKinley is his newest and most intriguing client, and it's almost suspicious how often his drains get clogged.





	1. Ducking Around

The first time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment it was a Tuesday.

He didn’t normally do jobs alone, a more experienced plumber usually getting appointed as his babysitter, but his dad had decided that a clogged drain was probably as easy a job as they were likely to get and therefor a good opportunity for Kevin to get some unsupervised experience. And he had been looking forward to this day, as much as one can look forward to making progress in a career they didn’t want, but he had been hoping for something a little more challenging. And maybe less gross.

But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Easy meant fast. Fast and easy meant he got to look good. Another fumble and he probably would get stuck trailing after Eddie again while the whale of a man crouched inside a cupboard making the general populace want to gouge their eyes out. Which was harsh, true, Eddie was a good guy, nice and patient and the better option if Kevin had to choose someone to shadow, but there was something to be said for belts.

As it was, the company van felt almost too big for just one person. There was actually space to spread his arms and he could breathe, which was a privilege he sorely missed. And it was a nice day too, so he was able to put the window down and play the music that he liked at whatever volume he wanted (within reason of course) and he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He generally liked talking to people, but people in his field tended to lack a certain eloquence that made him regret letting his dad talk him out of college.

“Nothing wrong with a trade, Kevin,” Mr. Price told him proudly. “Plumbers do honest work and they get paid well and so long as you’re doing it you’ll never be out of the job.”

But Kevin lacked the knack for it. His dad and his older brother, and it seemed his next youngest brother as well, were all naturals with a wrench, leaving Kevin in the dust. It was a position he wasn’t much used to and he resented it more than he would ever admit.

But now was the time to prove himself. He lacked natural talent, but Kevin Price was anything but a quitter. He was a damn hard worker and he was ready for the payoff.

This client, a man named Connor McKinley, lived in a very nice neighbourhood, it had to be said. One of the areas that didn’t need gentrification because it was already like that. Kevin didn’t know much about it, but he knew it was expensive, way beyond anything he could afford, even on the legendary plumber salary. Good thing he still lived with his parents.

He wondered if people ever tipped plumbers.

Once he had arrived at the address – an impressively tall condominium that looked like it was 90% made of glass and balconies – and managed to find a spot to park, he grabbed his tools and the necessary forms, checking and double checking he had everything he was supposed to because it was all he needed to be shot back down to Eddie’s lackey due to botched paperwork, he entered the building.

The lobby was just as nice as the exterior led him to believe and after signing in with security he hopped in an elevator and hit the button for the 15th floor. The whole ride up he recited procedure to himself, sorting out which tools to use when so it actually looked like he knew what he was doing. The mirrors lining one wall of the elevator car showed him a frantic young man who didn’t suit his work clothes at all. The final two floors were spent fixing his posture and adjusting his shirt, wishing he had picked a better colour for his first solo venture (well, not first-first, but first in a good long while).

There weren’t so many doors on this floor. A decent sign that anyone who lived on this floor had enough money to take up space. By the time he reached the particular door he was meant to be at, his palms were sweating and he hoped to god this person was rich enough that he would balk at the idea of shaking hands with a plumber.

He knocked.

There was a brief pause wherein Kevin’s heart seemed to be trying to climb out of his throat, and he tried to find some of his old composure, the kind he had been trained in back in his door-to-door days at the MTC. He had only just plastered on the smile when the knob turned and he was finally able to lay eyes on his client.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Only this wasn’t what he had expected at all. But he managed to shove his surprise right back down in order to say, “Hi, I’m Kevin, I’m here to fix your pipes.”

“You mean, unclog the sink?”

Kevin’s smile faltered as he wondered in terror if that was a big enough difference to get him in trouble, even though he knew for a fact that it was hardly a big enough difference to be worth mentioning in the first place. “Yeah, right, sorry.”

“No worries,” said the client. He stepped back, opening the door further. “Please come in, it’s just in that room.”

Connor McKinley was young. Probably only about Kevin’s age, if he had to guess, and not at all the middle-aged man he had been expecting. Or perhaps this wasn’t Connor McKinley, but rather his son who happened to live with him. Or his live-in nurse depending on just how old Connor actually was. But stepping into the condo, it was plainly obvious that this was not an old man’s home.

There were framed posters on the walls of movies, plays, and various other shows. The furniture was comfortable, but classy, looking like a soft place to rest and play a few video games on one of the many consoles strewn about the floor by the TV. Plants were here and there, a few books, but not many, and a smattering of knick-knacks that suggested a rather busy life that deserved documenting. And all of that was visible just from the doorway.

Kevin couldn’t imagine he would ever be able to afford a place like this on his own, the floor to ceiling windows making the whole space bright and open, not a single wall that didn’t need to be there creating a room that was almost unnecessarily large. Being led through it, the kitchen wasn’t even a separate room, simply a space set out around the corner, generous enough to prepare a buffet for an entire extended Price family get together. And even through the class of it all, there were chip bags and sugary snacks he couldn’t imagine a grown man would allow himself if he had the taste to be living here.

Yet it was still hard to believe that this young man, now leaning against the kitchen counter, could ever afford a space like this to himself.

“I’m not really sure what it is,” he was saying. “It was working fine yesterday, but then this morning all the water was backing up and I had to use the bathroom sink instead, which isn’t very appetizing when you’re rinsing off a piece of fruit.”

“Are you Connor McKinley?” Kevin asked.

The man looked startled, but recovered well. “Yeah, I am.”

“Junior?”

He looked amused. “No, the first.”

“Oh.” Kevin stared at him for a moment as he tried to work it out in his head, the concepts just weren’t meshing, before remembering himself and shaking his head. “Sorry, I was just a little surprised,” he said, setting down his kit and opening up the cupboard beneath the sink. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, trying to hide his embarrassment by putting his head deeper into the cupboard than was really required. But, damn it all, he had forgotten to check the sink itself. He couldn’t start taking things apart until he actually saw the problem, and he hoped Connor hadn’t noticed the mistake as he stood up, trying not to look sheepish. “A place like this in this part of town, I was expecting someone older. Unless you’re living with your dad or something.”

“No, it’s just me up here,” Connor said.

Kevin turned on the tap and watched as the water filled up the basin.

“It does that,” Connor said, coming to stand next to him. They were near even in height and his head was at the perfect level to peer over Kevin’s shoulder. “It’ll fill up and then drain real slow. So, like, water’s getting through, just not enough to actually use it.”

Shit. He should have looked down the drain with a flashlight to see if he could spot the obstruction before filling it up with water. Now he would have to wait for it to drain. He wouldn’t tell his dad about this bit.

“And it was just today, yeah?” He needed to fill some time while the water drained. Or he could just stick his fingers in it and hope for the best.

“Yeah, it was fine yesterday.”

“What was the last thing you used it for yesterday?” But what if it was gross and slimy? He didn’t want that crap getting under his nails. Would gloves seem unprofessional? More professional? Did he even have gloves with him?

“I honestly can’t remember,” Connor said, watching the water level drop painfully slowly. “I had some people over yesterday, maybe one of them did something. I don’t have a garbage disposal, but someone could have made a mistake.”

Grimacing through his disgust, Kevin finally convinced his hand to sink into the water, index and middle fingers scissoring desperately into the drain. Nothing. He pulled his hand back out and started to wipe it off on a towel hung on the oven door before remembering himself and pulling the rag out of his back pocket that he was meant to use for this sort of thing.

“Oh, you can use those if you want,” Connor told him. “Not like you’re filthy or anything.”

“Thanks.”

If water was getting through he could probably snake it. He didn’t think it was so bad he would have to disassemble the pipe, but he was having trouble remembering exactly what he was supposed to do in this situation. There were too many options. He preferred it when things were clean-cut and decisive. No options, just direction.

“You aren’t really what I expected either.”

Kevin looked up with a start, finding Connor’s eyes squinting at him. He was leaning up against the counter again, arms crossed and chewing on his lip, and Kevin didn’t really know what that look meant, which, of course, made him rather nervous. “What do you mean?”

“You thought I was too young to be here by myself, but you’re probably around the same age as me, right? And you don’t really look like a plumber.”

“No?” Kevin asked, thankful for the distraction. Conversation was so much easier than fixing a sink, something his entire family had always disagreed with him on. It was the only time he really knew what he was doing. “If I don’t look like a plumber, then how do you explain this wrench?” he said, pulling a wrench out of his toolkit and sticking it proudly in his front pocket.

Connor laughed a little, his cheeks delightfully round. “You’re absolutely right, how foolish of me,” he said, the smile making his voice ridiculously warm. Now that Kevin was actually looking at him, he wasn’t all that bad looking, soft faced and thick bodied, and his features were just as warm as his voice, if that made any sense. He was almost pretty.

Kevin smiled, feeling just a little more at ease now that he knew Connor wasn’t the type to rat him out if he made a small mistake. Speaking of which, did he even remember to bring the hand auger up with him?

“But really, though,” Connor continued as Kevin sorted through his things, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, “you don’t look anything like a plumber.”

“And what do plumbers look like?” Kevin asked. Ah, here it was.

“I don’t know,” Connor said. Kevin stood up and peered into the sink, which was, thankfully, almost devoid of water by this point. “Fat. Balding. Greasy. Breathing too loud.”

“Oh, so you’ve met Eddie?”

Connor laughed again, louder this time, and Kevin was glad to feel some of his confidence becoming real as the auger pushed up against something resistant down the drain.

“I’m only just starting out, really,” Kevin explained, turning the mechanism of the snake. “It’s my dad’s business, so I sort of fell into it. He wants all his sons to be plumbers, kind of passing on the torch. But I wouldn’t even be inheriting the business. When the sign says Price and Son’s, I’m not the son it’s referring to.”

“Older brother?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out the snake and turned on the tap. The water flowed down the drain effortlessly and a swell of pride made his chest puff out a bit. “But I don’t mind. I’m not really interested in plumbing and, to tell the truth, I’m not very good at it.”

“Well, you managed to fix my sink.”

“Easy,” Kevin said with a dismissive wave of the hand, all nerves forgotten with the renewed confidence that came with a success. “Just don’t go putting anything down there that isn’t supposed to be there again.”

“Scout’s honour,” Connor replied as Kevin turned off the tap.

He took up the clipboard of paperwork he had left on the floating island and started filling out the empty spaces. As he went his mouth rambled off the script he had made a point of memorizing, describing the problem and the resolution and what to do and what not to do and blah blah blah. He wasn’t even listening to himself. It was the only thing Eddie ever really let him do because talking was really the only thing Kevin was good for these days. But at least Connor was a kind audience, signing off where he needed to and nodding along to the words Kevin’s mouth was saying.

“Is it okay if I pay with my credit card?” Connor asked.

And suddenly Kevin felt like a failure all over again because he had left the card reader in the van. Or was he supposed to leave it in the van? Yes. Yes, the card reader stayed in the van and it was perfectly fine and Kevin hadn’t done anything wrong. Nothing that his dad could prove, anyways.

“Yeah, I just have to go down to the van for the card reader and I’ll be right back up.”

“Oh, I’ll just walk down with you, save you the trip.”

Kevin looked up from where he was putting away his things and nodded, wondering if protocol had ever told him if he was supposed to make conversation in elevators. “Yeah, sure.”

They stepped out into the hall, Connor not bothering to lock his door before leading them back towards the elevators. Once they were in the elevator and the drop feeling in Kevin’s stomach had subsided, he glanced into the mirror next to him. In the reflection he could see that Connor was about an inch shorter than him, an inch he hadn’t noticed before, and for some reason, that satisfied him.

“So what would you do then?” Connor asked somewhere around the 6th floor. “If your dad hadn’t passed the torch to you? If you weren’t a plumber?”

Kevin shrugged and pretended to think about it even though he knew exactly what the answer was. “I don’t know,” he said, the answer hammering away in his throat. “Maybe, like, a voice actor or something?” What Kevin wouldn’t give to lend his voice to anything animated.

Because that was the dream, wasn’t it? To be a part of the great animation industry, to see his name on the big screen, to hear people imitating his voice when they talked about an iconic character. He would kill to spend his day in a recording booth rather than plunge one more toilet.

“Really?” Connor asked. “That’s pretty cool.”

The doors to the elevator opened and they stepped out into the shiny lobby floor. He signed out with security and Connor kindly opened doors for him so he wouldn’t have to keep swapping hands.

“Have you ever done voice acting before?” Connor asked, squinting in the mid-afternoon sun. The day was still beautiful and Kevin wished he didn’t have to go back just yet. It was the perfect kind of day to sit around in the park, enjoying the heat and petting whatever dogs happened to come your way. Ice cream, he thought, would be ideal.

“A bit,” Kevin said. “Back in high school I took this media studies course as, like, an arts requirement, and we had to do a stop motion animated film. It was only about 20 seconds, but I think I really killed it.”

“Who did you voice?”

“A mouse.” Specifically, a mouse that his teacher had told him and his partner could get them sued by Disney if they ever attempted to monetize it later in life. But really, how was he meant to make an animated video about a mouse and just ignore the most iconic mouse in the history of animation? It wasn’t like they were trying to pretend they had come up with the concept of Mickey Mouse, they were just borrowing his iconic silhouette. “We got a D+.”

They reached the van and Kevin gladly placed his toolkit inside, shaking out his aching arm before clambering into the front seat to try unearthing the card reader from under a months worth of junk food wrappers.

“You’ve got a pretty distinctive voice, I’ll give you that,” Connor said from somewhere behind him. Was it meant to be a compliment? “I’m sure you’d have no trouble making a name for yourself in the business.”

Reader successfully retrieved, Kevin backed out of the cab and turned back to Connor, who’s eyes darted up in a way that made Kevin want to simultaneously blush and preen. “I do do a pretty stellar Donald Duck impression,” he said instead with a smirk, training his eyes on the reader as he punched in the numbers. Once it was ready he passed it over to Connor who set about paying. He didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed to be essentially caught staring at Kevin’s ass and Kevin found that rather intriguing. Or, not intriguing, but definitely interesting.

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration sometime,” Connor said and did that qualify as a proposition? It felt like one. But when Connor passed him back the reader and Kevin tore him a receipt from his clipboard he made no move to give him his number or even acknowledge the comment.

So Kevin did what he thought was appropriate at the moment and said, “Thank you, have a nice day,” in his best Donald Duck voice. And to be completely frank, he absolutely nailed it. And he knew he would be shooting himself for that embarrassing display the second he was alone in the van, but the smile and laugh it pulled from Connor were enough to make it worth it in his mind.

“I don’t think ‘stellar’ is quite the word to describe it,” Connor said through his giggles. “But I’ll definitely have a good day after this.” After he tucked his card back into his wallet he pulled a ten-dollar bill out of the pocket and handed it to Kevin. “For being good conversation,” he said, “and an excellent Donald Duck.”

Kevin grinned stupidly as he took the bill and said, “Thanks. Good to meet you, Connor.”

“You too, Kevin. Have a nice day.” And he flashed him a wave and a winning smile before walking back up the street leaving Kevin feeling warm and rather good about being a plumber in spite of everything.

The drive there had been nice, but the drive back was blissful. Bright sun, warm breeze through his window, adequate music on the radio, and Connor’s smile in his head, Kevin found it impossible to dread the rest of his life.

And he really thought that was the end of it.

Two weeks went by before he was sent off on another call to a very familiar address under a very familiar name. He didn’t really remember much about Connor except that he had been nice and after two weeks of dealing with regular clients as well as his family Kevin could do with some nice.

The second time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment it was a Monday.

Ever since his first visit his dad had decided that Kevin was ready for more responsibility. That was both a blessing and a curse. Kevin no longer had to have a supervising eye on him at all times, but he also had to confront the fact that he was still dreadfully bad at fixing things. It was passable enough that he didn’t get in trouble, but there was more than one client who had to be convinced not to make a complaint and Kevin was slowly starting to wonder if perhaps letting them complain might solve his problem by getting him fired. He’d earned enough money to get himself through a year of school or even just live somewhere else. Privacy was a hot commodity in the Price household and difficult to come by. It didn’t help that Kevin was essentially living with his boss.

But he found that he rather liked going off on calls on his own. Actually helping the client and attempting to solve their problems was a nightmare, but the drive, that short piece of respite, was his favourite part of the day. How he had missed being by himself, even if only for a few minutes. But it was hard to miss something he had never really had. And even though he knew Connor was nice, he still felt the familiar hand of despair gripping his heart when he parked the van and had to get out and do his job.

Much like the first time, he was amazed by the class of the building; more so, perhaps, now that he noticed the chandelier hanging in the lobby that resembled a great glass jellyfish. So he signed in, rode the elevator up, and wished he had the money and stability to afford to live in a place like this.

“Hi, Kevin,” Connor said as he opened the door. “I didn’t realize they would be sending you again.”

Kevin stepped into the condo and looked around, longing to have a place like this. God, how he envied Connor his independence. “So, what exactly is wrong with your toilet?” he asked, letting his professionalism slip a little as his eyes took in the view from the distant balcony.

“The seal is leaking,” Connor said and Kevin took a moment to realize that he was walking off and that Kevin was meant to follow. Connor led them around the corner, past the kitchen area and opened a door into a rather nice bathroom. It was smaller than the rest of the apartment led Kevin to believe, but it was still gorgeous with blue and white tile, a glass enclosed shower, and a toilet with a conspicuous pool of water around the base. “It’s not dirty,” Connor assured him. “I didn’t even use it, it was leaking overnight.”

“Huh,” Kevin said before he knelt down before it, setting his toolkit down on the floor next to him. “Yeah, that’s, um… that’s definitely a leak.”

The silence behind him spoke volumes to the eye roll Connor was doing. “A stunning deduction.” At least he sounded in good spirits about it. “But what’s causing it?”

“Good question.”

He set about inspecting the toilet, knowing about half of what he was looking at, and Connor watched him briefly from the doorway before wandering off into the living room. Kevin was able to breathe a sigh of relief before really delving into the plumbing. The pressure of being watched off his shoulders, he could confidently explore the pipe and porcelain structure with a look of absolute bewilderment on his face. Tentatively, he flushed the toilet and was relieved when it didn’t explode.

The puddle stayed unmoved so at least he could rest easy in the fact that it wasn’t totally unusable, but he still wasn’t entirely certain if the seal around the base of a toilet was even capable of leaking. But then where had all the water come from? The answer came as a drip. Somewhere at the back of the toilet. He scrambled forward on his knees, hoping to catch it in the act, and was rewarded by the sight of a bead of water slipping down the supply line before catching on its valve and then falling to the puddle below. A quick check confirmed that the nut connecting the line to the fill valve at the back of the toilet was loose.

Easy as cake.

He reached back for his wrench and tightened the nut in two partial twists, then flushed the toilet again, satisfied that it wasn’t about to flood the bathroom. Then, feeling accomplished, he wiggled back out and sat back on his heels, smiling to himself and counting it as a win. Even if his knees were a little damp.

“Did you figure it out?”

Kevin turned around to find Connor leaning up against the doorframe and had to wonder how long ago he had returned. “Uh, yeah,” Kevin said, putting away his wrench and climbing to his feet (gosh, his knees were stiff). “There was nothing wrong with the seal, it was just a loose nut at the back of the tank. Water started dripping out the supply line whenever the toilet filled back up. It was slow enough that you probably didn’t notice right away and it accumulated overnight.”

Connor looked impressed and nodded. “Well that’s a relief. I was worried I’d have to get a new one. I wonder how it happened.”

“It might just have gotten knocked accidentally,” Kevin told him with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. If it happens again you can just take a wrench to it yourself.”

“Guess I’ve got to go buy a wrench, then,” Connor said, eyes floating from the toilet up to Kevin with a smile. He was still leaning against the doorway and Kevin was beginning to wonder if he was going to let him out, but then Connor took a breath and stepped aside unprompted, eyes on the floor. “I don’t suppose you’ve got an extra one in that kit of yours?”

Kevin laughed and walked back out into the living room, glad to be back in the natural light and open space. He wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, but he was tall and small spaces didn’t tend to agree with his joints. “Unfortunately no,” he said. “But I do suggest you get one. They always come in handy. Hammers too, actually. Everyone should have one, especially if you’re living alone like this.”

“But if I could fix things for myself I wouldn’t get to talk to you.”

Kevin looked to Connor uncertainly, vanity and professionalism battling it out in his chest, and was greeted with a pleasant smile, so he tried to return it with one of his own. “It’d be cheaper for you, though.” He gestured toward the door and Connor gladly led the way.

“I don’t mind the cost so much,” Connor said, opening the door for Kevin before following him through.

They walked down the hall together, Connor just slightly behind Kevin, and Kevin had to turn around a little to see him, walking almost sideways to get a good look at him. “What do you do for a living, Connor?” he asked.

Connor laughed almost shyly and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. “Wondering how I afford a place like that?” he asked.

Kevin didn’t reply, just turned back around. It was rude to ask people about money, after all, and while he was curious, dreadfully so, about how on Earth a man as young as Connor could possibly afford to rent a place like that, he didn’t want to be rude. They came to the elevators and Connor pushed the button for them, and they waited side by side.

“I work as a dancer,” Connor said, the words stunted like he was reluctant to let them out, his smile tight. “Ballet, specifically. We don’t get paid much more than most other people do, depending on how long you’ve been doing it and where and with who, but it’s decent money.”

“But renting a condo like that can’t be cheap,” Kevin said, deciding it was less uncomfortable to continue the conversation than to just stand there in silence.

The door to the elevator slid open and they stepped inside.

“I don’t rent, I own it,” Connor said, pressing the button for the ground floor. “It’s cheaper in the long run and I came into some money a couple years back that helped me afford it. And really, in this city, it’s not nearly as expensive as people think. It looks nice and it’s in a good neighbourhood, but the plumbing is shoddy, as you’ve seen, and it doesn’t heat well.”

That was a good place to stop, Kevin figured. Asking about a job was one thing, but to actually pry into where someone got a specific sum of money was a far throw from what a client-plumber relationship was meant to get into. But he wanted to keep talking. Liked having Connor’s attention on him. “A dancer, huh?” Kevin asked instead. “You any good?”

Connor scoffed. “Am I any good?” he replied. Then he made a shooing motion that made Kevin step back, pressing against the mirrored wall on his side of the elevator, and Connor stepped into the open space. Raising his chin, face taking on a look of absolute derision, he slowly began to raise his left leg. Supporting himself against the wall with one hand, the other came up under his calf until his legs were at a nearly 180 degree angle, sneakers pointed delicately. The look left Connor’s face and instead he smiled smugly. “I’d go further, but I’m wearing jeans,” he said.

Kevin was floored. He managed to shut his mouth and lower his eyebrows, hiding his amazement with a laugh. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

Connor grinned and lowered his leg back to the floor, finding his balance quickly. “Am I good?” Connor muttered haughtily. “I’d like to see a plumber try that.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?” Kevin blurted out. In the moment he had pressed his own legs together in sympathy, but the stretch didn’t seem to have bothered Connor at all.

“I’ve been doing ballet since I was eight,” Connor said. “You gain a little elasticity eventually.”

“A little is one thing, but… Jeez.”

Connor couldn’t help but laugh at Kevin’s newly shocked expression. “You should see me do it while I’m spinning. It’d put Michelle Kwan to shame.”

Kevin didn’t really know who that was, but he nodded anyways, trying not to think too hard about the pain that would be involved if he ever tried something like that. He wondered what his father would think if he had ever asked to do ballet. He couldn’t even begin to imagine.

They reached the ground floor and stepped out into the brightly lit lobby. When Connor opened the front door for him, Kevin thought to himself that he didn’t really look like a dancer. Or he didn’t look like Kevin’s idea of a dancer at least. Most of the male ballerinas he had seen on TV were square-jawed with triangular torsos and rippling muscles on show beneath skin-tight costumes. Connor looked soft and gentle, baby-faced beyond belief, and while Kevin supposed that some of the mass beneath his clothes could conceivably be muscle, it wasn’t the type of muscle he was used to seeing in that context.

Kevin was quite the opposite. He looked stronger than he was. His genetics had blessed him with defined biceps and pectorals that, in practice, were absolutely useless. He always considered his legs, long and skinny, to be much truer to his actual capabilities than the rest of him was. It always surprised a client when he had to ask them for help moving a piece of plumbing.

He wondered if he touched Connor’s body if it would be soft.

When they reached the van Kevin threw the kit into the back and reached into the front seat for the card reader. His brain was wandering, imagining what Connor might look like in those tight costumes ballerinas always wore, wondering what type of body he was hiding under his clothes, and he hadn’t even realized he was doing it until Connor spoke, bringing him out of his speculations.

“Were you actually serious about that voice acting thing you mentioned?” he asked.

Kevin looked at him over his shoulder and found the gaze that met his was gently inquisitive. No ass gazing today. He turned back to the task at hand and said, “Um… yeah. Yeah, I think it’d be a lot of fun. And, like, I grew up on TV, I always idolized those characters. Mighty Mouse, Bugs Bunny, Rocky and Bullwinkle…” He emerged with the reader and typed in the numbers. “Imagine seeing your name up on the credits for something like that. It’d for sure be a better time than fixing people’s toilets.”

Connor took the reader from him with a smirk. “Yeah, I can’t imagine anyone would enjoy that.”

“You would be surprised.”

“I’m always surprised by people who want to be dentists,” Connor said as Kevin leaned up against the side of the van, eyebrows raised. “Who wants to spend the rest of their lives sticking their hands in other peoples’ mouths? It makes literally no sense.”

“Different people see things differently I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve heard that Dentists have the highest rate of suicide over every other profession in the United States,” Kevin said and he instantly bit his lip because the moment it was out of his mouth he realized how dark and inappropriate it had been. But Connor seemed unconcerned as he passed the reader back and pocketed his card.

“I don’t blame them,” he said. “I would much rather be in a studio than in a building that always smells like fluoride.”

Kevin did his best not to show his embarrassment as he filled out the form and receipt, hating that he was so eager to make a good impression on Connor.

Because he was cute, Kevin thought. Because he was nice and easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes and it turned out he was incredibly flexible to boot. That image was certainly going to be seared into his minds eye for the next while. Not that he would complain. It was good to have something nice to think about while he had his hand shoved down a dirty drainpipe. His body was getting warm just thinking about it.

“I’ll see you ‘round,” Connor said with a wave once Kevin had given him the receipt. And the smile he flashed him was just so damn charming that for a moment Kevin forgot he was meant to be embarrassed and he simply waved goodbye with a grin that had escaped the realm of charming and fell right into goofy.

It wasn’t until he was back in the van with the door closed and the engine turned on that he remembered his misstep and let his head fall heavily onto the rim of the steering wheel.


	2. Smartass

The third time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment it was a Monday.

It had only been one week since he had last been there so it came as a great surprise when his dad told him he would be returning to unclog a shower drain. Connor claimed that the plumbing in the building was shoddy, but there were only so many times a single tenant could clog a drain before one had to wonder if it was really the buildings fault.

But Kevin didn’t have the foreknowledge to be suspicious, only bewildered and resigned.

It was disgustingly hot that day, overcast and humid. He had already gone to two homes, one with Eddie to replace a faulty toilet and another on his own to figure out why an elderly woman’s bidet was spitting water when no one touched it. Of all the plumbing installations, Kevin hated bidets the most. Not because they were complicated or anything like that, but because they made him uncomfortable by the sheer nature of their purpose.

But after two jobs, both horrendous, and on a day with weather like that, Kevin was feeling tired and hot and cranky. As much as he was looking forward to seeing Connor again, he mostly just wanted to go home.

But he put on a brave face, reminded himself that after this job he was done for the day, and headed up the elevator to Connor’s condo.

“Hey, Kevin, come on in,” Connor said when he answered the door. As Kevin stepped in, Connor’s face fell a little and he said, “You’re not looking too hot. Long day.”

“I’m actually very hot,” Kevin said, walking through the room, eager to get in and out as quickly as possible. “That’s kind of the problem. It’s been a long day and I’m pretty exhausted, so I hope you don’t mind if I don’t really… converse much today.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Connor said, face quietly serious. “It’s just through here.” He led Kevin through a door nearby that led into a bedroom and then through another into an en suite. It was much bigger and nicer than the bathroom Kevin had dealt with before and he was glad that he wouldn’t have to worry about knocking his head on anything.

The shower stood apart from a tub, a sliding door of partially frosted glass confining it brightly. Even the bathrooms back at Kevin’s place didn’t look this nice and they were in an actual house. Though, to be fair, they were shared between seven people. He opened up the shower door and knelt down on the tile floor, removing the grate that covered the drain.

“I’m sorry to drag you out here again,” Connor said from the doorway. “Especially after a difficult day. I probably should have just tried to deal with this on my own. Save you the hassle.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kevin said, wishing that Connor would just go do something else and let him get this done. “You’re my last job today and then I get to go home.” He pulled out his Maglite and shone it down the drain, hoping to catch a glimpse of the obstruction, but only managing to light up an empty pipe. It wasn’t quite big enough for him to stick his hand down, and besides that he just didn’t want to, but he also didn’t want to test it out by filling it up with water just in case. “Hey Connor,” he said, “when you use the shower does it-“ but he stopped when he turned to find that Connor had vanished. Great. Kevin had gotten just what he wanted right when it was most inconvenient.

So he turned his focus back to the drain and wondered if it was something he could use a solvent on or if it was more of a reach in and pull something out kind of blockage. He still wasn’t very good at figuring that sort of thing out and he sighed as he realized that either way he was going to have to go back down to the van to get necessary equipment. Or maybe he should try snaking it.

Something appeared in the corner of his eye and he nearly leapt out of his skin before realizing it was only Connor’s hand holding a cup. He looked up at Connor uncertainly and Connor smiled back at him, offering the drink to him again. Carefully, awkward in the confines of the shower, Kevin took the drink, ice cubes clinking against each other, and took a sip. Iced tea.

“It is awfully hot outside,” Connor said, moving across the room to sit on the edge of the tub. He had a drink of his own in hand and took a long, appreciative sip. Kevin looked down at his drink, uncertain where he should put it while he was working, and Connor seemed to notice his confusion. “You can take a break to drink if you want,” he said. “The shower can wait and you’ve been working all day. You’re drenched in sweat, you’ve earned a cool down.”

Suddenly very self-conscious about the damp patches under his arms and across his back, Kevin stepped out of the shower and sat down on the lidded toilet. He took another drink, longer this time, and had to admit that it was incredibly refreshing. “Thank you,” he said. “You really didn’t have to.”

Connor shrugged it off. “No big deal,” he said. “You looked like you could use it. And I’d rather you didn’t think of me as being inconsiderate.”

“I don’t think you’re inconsiderate.”

“See? The iced tea worked.”

Kevin laughed lightly and looked down into his cup, uncertain where to go from here. “You were right about this building having bad plumbing,” he said. “What’s it been? Three calls in the past month? You should really make a complaint.”

“I mean, everything so far has only been my own fault, hasn’t it?” Connor said, leaning forward on his knees. “Things only get clogged or broken if you don’t take care of them properly. It’s not like there’s been a pipe burst or something. It’s all human error.”

A lot of human error for one person, Kevin thought, but rather than say it he simply took another sip. “When did you notice the clog?” he asked.

“This morning?” Connor said, doing his best to look thoughtful. “I got in for a shower and I noticed it backing up. I decided it was a good idea not to chance it and used the shower in the other bathroom instead. It’s probably nothing, just some hair or something like that, but I thought it was probably safer to get a professional in.”

“Well, you’re probably right,” Kevin said, setting his cup on the counter by the sink. “These kinds of things are usually just a hairball or something you dropped and didn’t even notice.” He got up, uneasy to be sitting around so much while he was still technically on the job, and stepped into the shower once more, feeling much better than he had been when he had exited it. Crouching down by the drain he peered into it like something might have magically appeared while he had been taking his break.

Now that he was looking again, the drain didn’t look quite as small as he had initially thought. In fact, he was willing to bet that he could reach in as far as his elbow without getting stuck if he was careful.

“The good thing about having someone come over and clean out your drain for you,” he said as he carefully sunk his hand into the pipe, “is that once it’s clear you probably don’t have to worry about it again for a good long while.” Reaching down, his knuckles found the bend in the pipe and he couldn’t press in any further. But there was something brushing against his fingers where they fished around by the curve. He shifted forward, trying to get his hand to move in just a little bit more. “And then you don’t even have to think about it because you know it’ll be fine.” He managed to get two of his fingers to grip the object between them. It felt like cloth and he was overwhelmingly pleased to know he wasn’t going to have to touch a slimy ball of someone else’s hair.

After a couple of attempts, he managed to pull the object up and out, his fingers aching with the strain of keeping it locked between them, and held it aloft in complete and utter dismay. It was a facecloth, once white now stained with bits of filth and debris.

“Huh,” said Connor who was now standing over him and watching through the pane of glass by the sink. “I wonder how that got in there.”

The fourth time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment wasn’t even a week later.

On Friday he was sent back to complaints that Connor had managed to drop something down the sink and needed it retrieved. Kevin didn’t understand why Connor couldn’t just detach the pipe himself and take it out, but he wasn’t about to complain as he couldn’t think of a client he would rather end the week with.

“It’s not that it’s valuable,” Connor said, “it’s that it’s got sentimental value.”

He was perched on the kitchen counter, watching Kevin struggle in the cabinet beneath the sink. The nuts on the pipes had been done too tightly and he was straining to get them just to move.

It was another hot day and just from the strain of undoing the nuts he was soaking through his shirt, forehead dripping with sweat, and he briefly wondered if Connor had turned down the AC. Scrubbing his face on the collar of his shirt, he redoubled his efforts and managed to get the first nut to jerk into a more manageable level of tightness. Moments later it was off and he steeled himself for the next one.

“And you managed to drop it how?” he asked, sounding a little more tense than he had meant to, but a little too tense to really care.

“I was just washing off a plate and knocked it off the counter by accident. It was down the drain before I could do anything about it.”

Kevin wasn’t even going to bother asking why a valuable family ring was just sitting around on the kitchen counter in the first place considering every time he had seen Connor, the man hadn’t been wearing any rings at all. But decided against it and focused his efforts on the nut.

“It belonged to my granddad,” Connor explained unprompted. “When my grandma died she left it to me along with most of her money. That’s how I was able to afford this place. I was the only member of the family she actually liked.” He laughed, breathy and without much amusement. “She always said I would get my reward, but I didn’t think she would have a hand in it. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine,” Kevin said through gritted teeth.

“Okay… well, let me know if you change your mind. I took your advice and bought a wrench so I can actually start taking care of things around here myself, only…” He watched Kevin’s arm tremble with strain before giving up and shaking out the pain before diving back in for another go. “I couldn’t get it open myself.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kevin breathed. He shuffled back so he could sit up, breathing hard and sweating a disgustingly large amount. He must have smelled terrible, but Connor didn’t seem to mind as he watched with interest from his perch. “How big is your wrench?”

Connor smiled in a way that made it perfectly clear that he was about to make a terrible joke. “Size doesn’t matter, it’s how you use it.”

Kevin rolled his eyes, but the smile twitching at his mouth was impossible to control. “The longer the wrench the more leverage I can get. More leverage means more force means I get this nut off and your family ring back.”

Connor hopped down and wandered over to the front door, out of sight of Kevin, where he knew there was a closet. “Somebody paid attention in grade nine physics,” he called over and Kevin huffed a laugh.

He didn’t mind being here, really, letting Connor talk away to him. It was just the frustration of not being able to get things moving that was pissing him off a little and a growing curiosity that came with the vague notion that the ring vanishing down the drain likely wasn’t an accident.

Especially after his visit earlier in the week it was becoming absolutely clear that Connor was either doing this on purpose or he was the clumsiest person in the world. Kevin was willing to bet money on the former. And in a building as new as this, with pipes as clean as these, they really shouldn’t have been so unnecessarily tight. And yet. Connor had a new wrench. Clumsy indeed.

There was one problem he could resolve, however, and he climbed to his feet to strip off the shirt that was more sweat than cotton by that point. He used the remaining dry points to wipe his brow again before reaching back for his rag to dry off some of his neck. Already it was a lot better. And he almost hoped Connor was watching him up until the point where it became clear that he most certainly was.

“Well, just make yourself at home,” Connor said from behind him, and Kevin flushed hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, turning around to find Connor’s gaze more appreciative than anything. Perhaps he had wanted that, but it was embarrassing to admit even if only to himself. “It’s so hot outside and trying to get this nut to move, I’m sweating all over the place. I’ve got a spare shirt in the van I can just go down and get it.” He moved to put the shirt back on, but was stopped by Connor.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, coming forward with the wrench in hand. He held it out for Kevin who took it gratefully, happy to find it was a couple inches longer than his own. “I had to turn down the AC for the sake of my paycheck, so it’s partially my own fault. You can help yourself to a drink from the fridge too, if you want.”

“Thanks,” Kevin said as he turned back to his task, wondering if the sheen of sweat across his back was attractive or disgusting. “But I’d rather just get this finished. I’m not going to be beaten by a hunk of metal.”

He hooked the wrench around the nut and, bracing his feet against the cupboards on either side, he pulled for all he was worth. For a long moment it seemed like it wouldn’t budge, but then it began to inch. His fingers clutched white and his teeth were clenched and his few muscles that weren’t already aching were protesting sharply. And all at once the nut came loose, sending Kevin’s hands flying back hard, slamming his right hand into the edge of the cupboard with a loud “Crack!”

“Shit! Fuck!”

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

Connor was by his side in an instant as Kevin cradled his hand close to his stomach, jaw clenched against more expletives, face turning red and contorting. “Yeah,” he managed to get out. “Yeah, I’m fine, just… Just really caught me by surprise there.”

Connor took Kevin’s elbow, encouraging his hand away from his body and the simple movement of removing his left palm from the point of impact was enough to make Kevin hiss and grunt, teeth bared. There was a line across the back of his hand, skin peeled back just a little, not enough to bleed, but enough to sting, and a welt was raising already.

Taking the hand in his delicately, Connor ran a finger across the welt, feather light but painful as hell, and he jerked his finger back when Kevin gasped.

“I think I’ve got a first aid kit in the bathroom,” Connor said, voice quiet and slightly trembling. “Go sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.”

Kevin took the orders, hurrying over to the couch with his shoulders hunched and one hand holding the other. He was in too much pain to fully appreciate the fact that the couches were just as soft as they looked, but he sunk into them nonetheless and stared in agony as the welt grew brighter. Shit, and now he was getting sweat all over Connor’s couch. He shouldn’t have taken his shirt off, it was a stupid move. But he had liked the look in Connor’s eye at the sight of him, so really it was almost worth it.

A moment later, Connor appeared once more and sat down next to Kevin with a small first aid kit clutched in both hands. Opening it up, he pulled out a small bottle of disinfectant, a piece of cotton, and a roll of bandage before putting the rest of the box on the coffee table and beckoning for Kevin to give him his hand. The disinfectant stung almost as much as the initial hit had, but he did his best not to jerk out of Connor’s grip as he applied it gently as could be. Once it was cleaned and dried, the bandage was wrapped around it and Kevin thought it was a little overkill, but he was enjoying the look of concentration on Connor’s face and the touch of Connor’s hand on his own, so he let it happen without fuss, pain slowly retreating to a dull ache that he could easily ignore.

Connor got up once more and returned with a sandwich bag full of ice and wrapped up in a paper towel that he pressed against the back of Kevin’s hand and suddenly the stinging was back, but only briefly. Kevin hissed at it, but took the baggy in hand to hold it down himself as Connor put away his gear.

“I can get the nut off the rest of the way,” Connor said. “Keep that ice on there and take a break. Have a drink if you want. Gosh, that was a loud hit, huh?”

“You’re pretty good at that first aid stuff,” Kevin said quietly and Connor glanced up at him, a beat passing before his blank expression was replaced with a bashful smile that made Kevin’s heart beat a little faster.

“You’ve got to learn stuff like that when you spend most of your professional life destroying your feet in a studio.” At Kevin’s look of confusion, Connor slipped a shoe off and lifted his foot up onto the coffee table revealing a mess of bandages and bruises. “Rehearsal can get rough if you do something even the slightest bit wrong.” Kevin was aghast at the black and blue spectacle and he very nearly forgot his own pain at the sight of it. The foot came back down off the table and slipped back into the shoe before Connor got up and went back to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home, I’ll only be a minute.”

The foot had looked painful, much worse than his hand looked, and Kevin wondered just how high Connor’s tolerance for pain was that he seemed entirely unfazed by it. But then he had said his whole professional life so perhaps it was normal for him. Although, in retrospect, it was odd that Connor wasn’t at work on any of the days Kevin had come by.

Curious as well as restless, he stood from the couch and wandered over to the great windows that led to the balcony. Great apartment, great view. He could see the heat rising from the metal of the balcony railing in waves and thanked the lord that he wasn’t out in that anymore.

He could still remember the stench drifting off Eddie while they were working that morning, his sweat not as prolific as Kevin’s, but on a bigger body and, quite possibly, lacking in deodorant. Connor was always a sure bet for an easy job (in more ways than one) and Kevin was cursing himself for letting himself get injured. His dad would be all over that when he got home. He would have to hope it was all healed by the time Monday came around or he would be in a world of pain trying to get anything done.

“Pretty nice view, huh?” Connor asked, suddenly behind him.

Kevin didn’t realize he had been standing there so long and turned around with a start. Connor’s smile was soft and he looked almost embarrassed, though Kevin couldn’t possibly imagine why, after all it was him who was standing around shirtless. “Yeah,” he said, turning his attention back to the cityscape in front of him. “You’re really lucky to be able to look out at this every day.”

“People always say ‘lucky’ when really all it is is hard work,” Connor said, coming to stand even with Kevin. “Though I suppose there’s a certain amount of circumstance involved.”

“Did you get your ring?”

“Yeah.” He flashed the ring in front of Kevin quickly enough that Kevin didn’t get a good look before stuffing his hand back into his pocket. “Sorry about being such a nuisance, I probably could’ve gotten it done myself if I had only tried a little harder.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kevin said, studying Connor’s face curiously. “It’s my job, after all. If everyone everywhere solved all their own problems then I’d be out of work.”

Connor laughed lightly, looking up at Kevin briefly before turning his gaze back out the window. There was a crease between his eyebrows that Kevin didn’t quite understand, but he decided not to mention it. He may have been shirtless and Connor may have just tended to him like a wounded soldier in some disgusting romantic period drama, but there were still certain work relationship barriers in place. He barely knew Connor, after all, and the look of worry had only made an appearance after he had hurt himself so it was probably just concern over Kevin’s hand, though it felt like more than that.

“How’s it feel?” Connor asked, nodding at the wound in question.

“Hurts,” Kevin replied, flexing his fingers and trying to look light-hearted. “But I’ll live.”

Connor nodded and chewed at his lip. Then he seemed to come to a decision and patted Kevin’s bare back with a smile. “Well I’m guessing you probably want to get going, then, seeing as I’m all that’s standing between you and your weekend. If you wait right there I’ll be back in a second.” His hand lingered on Kevin’s arm before he turned and set off for his bedroom. Moments later he returned with what looked like a towel and a shirt in hand. He made to toss the towel to Kevin, but thought better of it when his eyes caught sight of the hand again, and elected to just drape the towel over his shoulder instead.

“Can’t have you going out there with no shirt on and there’s no way you can put on that other shirt of yours when it’s so soaked,” he said, watching as Kevin started scrubbing the sweat off himself with the towel. “And I’m willing to lend you a shirt, but I’d rather I didn’t get it back with sweat stains all over it. No offence.”

“None taken,” Kevin said, pleased that he was getting a shirt at all. Connor’s hospitality seemed to know no bounds and while Kevin didn’t actually feel any real need to get going immediately, Connor was right, it was the weekend and the job was done. “I feel kind of bad for taking your money when you did the work.”

Connor shook his head, taking the towel from Kevin and handing him the shirt. “You’re the one who nearly lost his hand to my cupboard. All I did was move the pipe.”

Kevin slipped the shirt on and was surprised to find it fit quite well. “Thanks for this, I really do appreciate it.” He looked over to the kitchen curiously and asked, “Did you get the pipe back on? I could-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor told him. “I can get it back on later, it’s no problem. You did the hard part.”

“I think the cupboard was the hard part, I just collided with it.”

Connor laughed, looking down at the towel in his hands and Kevin thought it felt oddly vulnerable. Had the incident shaken Connor that much? Feeling a little uncomfortable and a lot concerned, Kevin raised his hand to place it on Connor’s shoulder, but aborted quickly at the feeling of Connor flinching beneath his palm and instead gestured to the kitchen. “I should get going,” he said. “Dad’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Kevin set off for the kitchen and Connor followed after him moments later, watched him put away his things and glance uncertainly at the pipe that was still laying on the ground by the open cupboard. “You sure you don’t want me to reattach that?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Kevin stood up and placed the bag of ice, now mostly water, on the counter by the sink and then, after a moments consideration, put it in the sink instead. “My shirt fits you pretty well,” Connor said with a shaky smile.

“Yeah,” Kevin said, not quite sure how to reply to that. “Thanks again for it. I’d much rather be dressed when I’m out in public.”

“You’re welcome,” Connor said warmly.

They talked about the weather on the way down in the elevator and everything felt oddly careful. But by the time they reached the van most of the discomfort had diminished and Connor was all smiles again. “You sure you can drive with your hand like that?” he asked after Kevin had given him the receipt.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a bump, not like I broke it.”

“And thank God for that.”

Once Connor was gone and Kevin was alone in the van he sat in silence for a good long while wondering to himself, what the hell was that?

The fifth time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment it was a Wednesday.

Once again only five days went by before Connor suddenly had another plumbing emergency and Kevin found himself halfway between eager and reserved about going back. On the one hand he rather liked Connor’s company, and that image of him in the elevator with his foot above his head had led to some rather interesting daydreams, but on the other the last visit had been so strange that he couldn’t really predict how this was going to go. And if there was anything Kevin didn’t like, it was uncertainty.

This particular trip was yet another clog. Kevin had no doubt at this point that the clogs were intentional, but he wasn’t about to say anything or risk having to be sent on a different more difficult call.

When Connor answered the door, the first place his eyes went was Kevin’s hand. “Hey Kevin,” he said brightly. “How’s your hand doing?”

“Fine, it’s fine,” Kevin said, holding it up and wiggling his fingers. There was a dark bruise across the back of it and a few small scabs, but the welt was gone and he was still functional. His dad had been alarmed when he had seen it the week before while his brother, Jack, had said something along the lines of, “That’s nothing. Look at this!” before rolling up his pant leg to reveal a massive knot of a bruise that he said he had gotten from a coworker dropping his end of a tub they had been installing. And, as per usual, Jack managed to draw the attention away from Kevin.

Normally, Kevin would resent it, but at that point, on that topic, he was almost relieved.

Before he could lower his hand, Connor reached out and took it in his own, inspecting the bruise closely before placing his other hand overtop of it and smiling up at Kevin. His hands were as warm as his smile. “Doesn’t look too pretty, but that only means it’s healing. It’s a good thing it didn’t break much skin.”

He dropped the hand and wandered back into the apartment and Kevin’s hand felt lonely in the absence. “Yeah, it looked a lot worse yesterday,” he said, still standing by the door, watching Connor’s retreating backside and realizing that while Connor didn’t particularly look like a dancer, he definitely had some of the definition.

“Clog’s in the bathroom again,” Connor said and Kevin trotted over to where he was opening the bedroom door. “Tub this time. Don’t know what it could possibly be.”

Wasn’t that a laugh? There was no doubt in Kevin’s mind that Connor knew exactly what was causing the clog, but kept his mouth shut and nodded along as he was led back into the en suite. The tub, unexpectedly, was half full of water. Evidently Connor had decided to give him a challenge.

“Baths are bad for you, you know,” Kevin said, taking his position next to it. “Just bathing in your own filth. It’s pretty gross.”

“Good thing I wasn’t able to then, huh?”

“I’m surprised you even tried.”

“Baths are good for muscle tension,” Connor said from the doorway. “I get a lot of aches from rehearsal so it’s good to wind down with a bath every now and then.”

“You should get Epsom salts, then,” Kevin said as he set to work. “They’re supposed to be good for healing muscle injury, right?”

“Oh, they are,” Connor said. “I’ve got some under the sink. Didn’t get around to getting them out.”

This drain was much too small for Kevin’s hand so he had to resort to his tools, but fortunately he had been prepared for that. He wondered if Connor was staring at his ass again and rather wished he was. Wanted the attention, specifically Connor’s attention, and he may have done a bit of strategic bending to give him a good angle. Of the two of them, Connor definitely had the better rear, but Kevin wasn’t much to scoff at.

“I was talking to a friend of mine, Middala, about you recently,” Connor said.

“Oh?”

“She’s a casting director. She works for a small animation studio downtown.” Kevin’s head shot around. “They’re looking for some voices for an upcoming feature and I mentioned that you were interested in doing some voice acting work.” Kevin stood up, eyes begging Connor to continue. “She told me to give you her card,” Connor said, fishing for it in his back pocket before holding it out for Kevin to take. He did so, almost reverently, and looked down at the raised black lettering in amazement. “If you give her a call and tell her your name she’ll tell you what to do. You’d have to audition, obviously, but with my word on you I think you stand a pretty good chance.”

Kevin looked back up to Connor, wide-eyed, and a grin started to grow on Connor’s face. “Connor,” Kevin said, breathless in shock. “I- Oh my god, Connor, thank you.”

The grin split Connor’s features and he looked endlessly proud of himself. “Well, don’t get ahead of yourself. She still wants to hear you for herself and while I thought the Donald Duck was fantastic she might be wanting something a little more intelligible.”

“This is amazing,” Kevin laughed.

“You really wanted it, huh?”

“I’m going to do my absolute best, I swear, I’m not going to waste a second of this opportunity,” Kevin said in earnest. Then he looked back down at the card and laughed again in disbelief. Could this be a reality? Could he actually get his dream job? His dad would hate it, but it was for the best for everyone if Kevin got out of plumbing as soon as possible and no one, not even his father, could blame him for wanting to follow a dream he’d had since he was a little kid. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” Connor said, looking on in amusement and what Kevin would have recognized as fondness had he looked up. “Now, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but I would rather like to have my tub back.”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, slowly coming out of his stupor. “Yeah, no, of course, um… Right.” He tucked the card into his back pocket and knelt down next to the bathtub again, mind whizzing around with hopes and fantasies and his thoughts entirely unfocused on the task at hand.

Over the course of the next half hour, Kevin managed to stumble his way through the process, eventually retrieving a sock from the depths of the drain that Connor insisted he had no idea how it had gotten there. Once they had reached the van, Kevin’s excitement had receded to a warmth in his chest that occasionally made a brief smile materialize in his face, and Connor was smiling almost as much as he was.

He tucked the toolkit away and reached into the cab and came back out with both the card reader and Connor’s shirt in hand. “I believe this belongs to you,” he said, holding it out for Connor to take.

“Thank you, I’d almost forgotten about it.”

“I washed it too, so you don’t have to worry about my germs being on there.”

Connor laughed. “Oh good, what a relief. It was all I could think about.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Kevin chided good-naturedly.

Connor took the card reader from him and grinned to himself. “The way I see it, I saved your hand last week so I can be however smart an ass as I please.”

Kevin laughed, still ridiculously giddy. “You’re right. It’s thanks to you that my hand didn’t get gangrenous and fall off. Really, you’re the only reason I have two hands.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

He passed the reader back and Kevin gave him the receipt and then there was no longer a reason for him to be there, though he sorely wanted to. But after a moment of hesitation, Kevin leaned forward and took Connor into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he said. “For the hand, the shirt, the… well, for everything.”

Connor laughed lightly and hugged him back. “You’re welcome.” They parted and Connor was grinning, looking impossibly sunshiny in the late afternoon sun. “Don’t forget to call Middala, I told her you’re reliable and I don’t want my reputation getting ruined.”

“How could I forget?” Kevin asked, and he felt like he was glowing.


	3. A Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains sexual content and Kevin's dad calling him at... rather a bad time...

The sixth time Kevin went to Connor’s apartment was on a Thursday. Not even a week later.

It was raining out, but Kevin was feeling good. He had good news and a light heart, and he was ready to share his excitement with anyone who would listen, Connor most of all. He didn’t eve care that he was here on another intentional clog call. The way he saw it, it was an excellent excuse to get some time off and spend at least part of the day talking with someone he genuinely liked.

“I got an audition!” he exclaimed the moment the door was open.

A grin split Connor’s face and he said, “Kevin, that’s awesome! When is it?”

“This weekend,” Kevin told him. “She said they usually just go with a video audition, but since I’m right in the city and a friend of yours she wanted me to just come down to the studio.”

“That’s a really good sign. If they want to meet you then you’ve probably already got it.”

“And it’s all thanks to you!” Kevin said, and he couldn’t help but take Connor up in a hug, his thrill bubbling under his skin and making his heart race. When he pulled away, Connor’s face was almost red, but he didn’t even care, only wanted someone else to know and be happy for him.

Connor led him through the condo to the bathroom just off the kitchen, beaming at Kevin like he was endlessly proud to know him. “Have you told your dad about it yet?” he asked.

Kevin’s smile faltered a little, but he recovered quickly and waved a dismissive hand. “No, not yet. I’ll only tell him if I get it for sure.”

Truth was, he was scared to tell his dad. Any self-respecting Price kid would be. He was half considering lying about it all and faking an illness instead so he could sneak off under the guise of going to a clinic. But he knew he would have to tell him sooner or later, even if he didn’t get it. Even if he didn’t wind up as a voice actor he couldn’t possibly let himself be a plumber for the rest of his life.

The issue today was a clogged sink. Connor stood in the doorway as Kevin worked, the two of them talking casually about this and that. “I looked you up online the other day,” Kevin said, “I saw you dancing. You’re very good.”

“Thanks,” Connor said. “It’s easy to get good at something when you really enjoy it.”

They talked about Kevin’s audition. What he was planning to say, what kind of person Middala was, what type of animations her company produced. They talked about the weather and wasn’t it hot out and hopefully the rain will wash it away. And they continued talking until Kevin managed to pull something out of the drain. Admittedly, he had taken his time, but when he found the object to be the matching sock to the one he had pulled out of the bathtub not three days ago, he decided it was time to end this.

Feeling almost bemused and holding the soggy sock aloft he turned to Connor and said, “Why do you keep intentionally clogging your drains?”

Connor smirked and crossed his arms and retorted, “Why didn’t you ask me that three drains ago?”

And Kevin didn’t really have a good comeback to that. “It’s not very good for the plumbing,” Kevin said weakly and Connor stepped forward, inches from Kevin. He took the sock from him and tossed it in the trash before looking him square in the eyes with a look of absolute confidence.

He shrugged casually. “Wanna stick around for a drink?”

Kevin’s mouth opened and closed a couple times, but his mind was completely blank. Connor was standing so closely to him that thoughts were not coming easily to him. It would only take one step for their bodies to be flush together. And it wasn’t like he wanted to say no, but his remaining scraps of professionalism and giddy nervousness were telling him that a token effort was required at the very least. “My dad would wonder where I am,” he said.

“Tell him it was a little more complicated a job than you thought.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Neither do I.”

And, really, Kevin didn’t have a good comeback to that either.

They wound up in Connor’s room, Kevin pressed against the wall with Connor devouring his mouth. Both of them were just a bit too eager and Connor’s hands were fumbling as they tugged at Kevin’s belt and Kevin should have been a little more concerned that his life was turning out like the plot to a bad porno, but he was too busy enjoying the sensation of Connor’s hips pressed hard against his own to care about much else.

Should they have talked more? Should they have taken things slower? But, no, they had been talking, on every visit Kevin had learned more about Connor and on every visit he had wanted less talking and more of this. And chances were that if he stopped this now then he would never get the opportunity again. And he didn’t want to stop it, not even a little bit. Rationalism be damned, he was going to go through with it. 

Giving up on the belt, Connor started to pull at the bottom of Kevin’s shirt and, impatient, Kevin broke off he kiss for just a moment to pull it over his head himself and toss it across the room. Connor was instantly on his newly bared skin, kissing and sucking at his neck and collarbone, hands touching every inch of him before finally returning to his belt.

It had been ages since someone had touched Kevin this way. The more he got, the more he wanted, mental barriers crashing down left and right, and he wanted to-

The phone in Kevin’s pocket buzzed and he groaned. It was his dad, there was no doubt in his mind. There was no one else who could have such expertly bad timing.

“Don’t answer it,” Connor muttered against his shoulder.

“I have to,” Kevin replied, pulling it out and hesitating only for a moment before answering. “Hello?”

“Kevin! You done at McKinley’s yet?”

“Um.” Connor had managed to get the belt undone and the fly unzipped, and Kevin was having a hard time keeping his breath even. “No, not just yet.”

“What’s taking so long, son? It’s just a clog isn’t it?”

“Well, it turned out to be a bit more than that.” Maybe he shouldn’t have taken so much time getting that sock out of the drain. Connor was kissing down his chest and then his stomach and suddenly Kevin’s trousers were around his thighs and Connor was kissing him outside his briefs. The sensation sent a jolt through him and he tried, poorly, to hide it by clearing his throat. “I’m gonna be a little while longer.”

“Do you want me to send Eddie or Scott out there? Do you need help?”

Good old Mr. Price, always thinking of his kids. “No, no, it’s fine,” Kevin said, voice wobbling a little as Connor pulled away his briefs and suddenly he was touching skin. “I, uh, I know what the problem is and I’m… uh, I’m working to fix it.” Oh, fuck, there he went. Kevin’s hips slammed back against the wall as Connor took him into his mouth and Kevin had to screw his eyes shut to keep from crying out. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

There was a pause and then an uncertain, “Okay, but let us know if you need someone out there with you.”

“Sure thing.” His hand gripped Connor’s hair tightly and he swallowed back a moan, his breath stuttering. “I’ll see you in a while, dad.”

“Oh, uh, how’s your hand feeling, kiddo?”

For fuck sake. “It’s fine. Dad. I really need to go.” God, how was Connor doing that? Kevin’s mind really wasn’t built for this kind of multitasking.

“Right, well, when you’re finished there, I want you to meet Jack at the Hobden house, he needs help installing a Jacuzzi tub. I’ll text you the details.”

So send Scott or Eddie, for Christ sake, if they’re so available. “Okay, yes, thank you dad. Goodbye.” Kevin hung up before his dad could reply and finally let out a stunted, “Ah!” as Connor did something really special with his tongue, and, god, he had just about had it with this. He tugged Connor’s hair and he pulled back, standing up at another insistent tug. Then Kevin pulled them together in a hard kiss before parting to yank Connor’s shirt up over his head. “You smart-ass,” he muttered earning a grin that was quickly doused by Kevin’s lips.

He walked Connor backwards towards the bed and pushed him down onto it, acutely aware that this room also featured beautifully large windows that granted them hardly any privacy at all and he could only thank the lord that they were up higher than the building opposite stood. It was bright, though, through the rain, and Kevin could see every inch of Connor’s body, looking just as soft outside his clothes as it had inside them. But when Kevin kissed his stomach, feverishly and with little regard for grace, he could feel hard muscle underneath that spoke of years of training and lifts.

Kevin looked up and said, “Do you have any-“ but Connor was way ahead of him, and there was already a bottle of lube and a condom being thrust towards him with urgency.

Kevin didn’t have a particularly long sexual history. His technique wasn’t spectacular, but enthusiasm seemed to be sufficient replacement, and he would have felt self-conscious about his endurance if Connor hadn’t finished so soon after him. Breathing hard they wound up stretched out next to each other, absolutely spent and at least one of them feeling vaguely embarrassed. Connor’s chest heaved and he was grinning, absolutely awash in the afterglow, but Kevin was almost in a state of shock.

Staring up at the ceiling, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do now. He felt exhausted and, given the opportunity, he would have fallen asleep, but his brother expected him and his father would be waiting for an update. So it wasn’t exactly that he didn’t know what to do, it was more than he didn’t want to do what needed doing. “I should get back to work,” he said between pants, an attempt to convince his body into motion, but it didn’t seem to be very effective.

Connor groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, arm flopping across Kevin’s chest. “Five more minutes,” he said. His eyes were already shut tight, his breathing returning to normal, but his face and chest were still flushed and he seemed absolutely boneless.

“I’m expected,” Kevin said, once again, more for himself than for anyone else.

Connor cracked open an eye to look up at him skeptically before tilting his chin up to lazily kiss Kevin’s jaw. “They can wait.” A kiss to the cheek. “I can vouch for you.” A kiss to the neck.

“And how do you expect to do that?” Kevin asked in amusement. “’Sorry, Kevin was busy having sex, but just give him another five minutes and he’ll be good to go’?”

Connor laughed, burying his smile in Kevin’s shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said. “I’ll tell them you were doing your job. They have to listen to me, I’m the client.”

“Yeah, they’re getting a little curious about that by the way,” Kevin said, reaching his arm around Connor’s back to pull him in closer, a move than Connor readily accepted. “They’re wondering why you call us two times a week with drainage problems when no one else in the building ever does.”

“No need to worry about that anymore,” he said wryly. “Unless, like, you specifically want to clean out a pipe every time we have sex.”

“Every time?” Kevin asked, peering down at him but only seeing the top of his head. “You mean more than once?”

“I don’t spend hundreds of dollars on plumbing to get dicked down once.”

Kevin’s head fell back on his pillow as his thumb gently brushed against Connor’s arm, amazed by his frankness and wildly entertained. “Does that make me a prostitute?” he asked.

Connor laughed and looked up at him. “What?”

Kevin grinned back at him, not an ounce of seriousness in the question. “You’re basically paying me to have sex with you. Does that make me a hooker?”

“No, I paid you to get a sock out of my bathroom sink, so I didn’t have sex with a hooker, I had sex with my plumber, which is, objectively, way worse.”

“How is it worse?”

“Sex work is a noble profession, but plumbers have to deal with poop.”

A great laugh tore its way through Kevin, so unexpected was the answer, and he had to admit that his attraction to Connor went at least a little beyond physical. He honestly wouldn’t mind exploring the possibility of an actual relationship, yet another thing he would never be able to tell his father about. But who cared about Mr. Price anyways? What business was it of his what Kevin got up to in his spare time? And… this one particular moment of company time?

“Why are you never at work?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“You want me gone that bad?”

“No, no,” Kevin laughed. “I mean, I’m always here on weekdays, but you’re never at work. Do dancers always have just endless free time?”

Connor sighed and rolled onto his back, lips pursed. “I’m on medical leave,” he said, sounding like he had been caught doing something he wasn’t meant to do. He lifted up his bruise-addled foot and gestured to it limply. “I got a stress fracture in my foot, real bad one, and the doctor said I had to stop dancing for a while or risk never being able to dance again.”

“But you can walk on it?”

“I was in a brace up until about a month ago. Like, a week before I met you. It’s been actual hell.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” Connor waved a dismissive hand and shook his head. “It’s fine, honestly, it’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have been practicing so much. I always go way overboard with everything, it’s like… obsession I guess. Helps distract me from other things.”

“Like what?” Kevin asked, examining Connor’s face that was valiantly attempting to live up to the flippant tone, but wavering into something more serious and sleepy.

“Just… stuff. I guess I spent a long time being really upset about a lot of things and I distracted myself with dancing and went too hard and wound up getting injured.” He met Kevin’s eyes, head resting against Kevin’s arm and smirked. “Facing things is a lot easier when you’ve got nothing else to do.”

Kevin frowned, concerned that, perhaps, he was only a replacement. Just another distraction from whatever it was that had been bothering Connor. He didn’t particularly like to think of himself as just a distraction; especially not with someone he could see spending a lot more time with. But he tried not to let too much of his hurt and fear show in his voice as he asked, a false smile spread across his lips, “I’m not just another distraction, right?”

Connor’s eyes went wide and he shifted hurriedly onto his side, hand on Kevin’s chest, saying, “No, god, Kevin, no. I’ve been out of commission for months now, I’ve done all the… facing my demons and shit already, I would never use a person like that, like I did with dancing.” He cupped Kevin’s jaw in his hand, sitting up against his elbow, eager for Kevin to understand him. “You’re a really great guy, Kevin,” he said. “You’re funny and nice and I like talking to you. And you’re hot as hell, which isn’t, like, the biggest aspect of why I like you, but it’s definitely in, like, the top ten.”

Kevin laughed, absolutely delighted and entirely unable to imagine that Connor could possibly be so shallow, whatever he had been like before they met, and Connor’s smile was one of relief as he hung over Kevin, holding his face. Warm, passionate Connor who shoved washcloths down shower drains just so he could talk to the boy he liked. And Kevin wished he knew exactly how to express what he was feeling without it getting too serious or deep, so he compromised and said, “Has anyone ever told you, you have a terrific ass?”

And it was Connor’s turn to laugh as Kevin pulled him in for a kiss.

It was a Friday the next time Kevin saw Connor.

The moment the door was open he invited himself in, dropping his kit and kissing Connor hard. His head was swirling so wonderfully that he very nearly missed his mouth, but holding his jaw he corrected. Not that it mattered much anyways because with how sloppy he was being only most of the kisses landed anyways.

After a moment of fumbling with Kevin’s arms, Connor managed to get a grip of his wrists and pull him off, looking alarmed and excited and painfully perfect, and he searched Kevin’s face with a grin. “Kevin, what are you doing here?” he asked. “I can’t say I mind a visit, but I like a little warning first.”

“I was at work today,” Kevin exclaimed, hands gesturing in the confines of Connor’s grip.

“Good for you?”

“I was at work, we were… we were fixing a burst in the basement of an old apartment complex. It was hot and gross and I hated it and I was stuck with Scott, who is, objectively, just the worst.”

“Okay?”

The beaming smile on Kevin’s face and the rambling excitement with which the words fell from his mouth were clearly not matching up to the content and he was deeply aware that he needed to get to the point. But he was so excited that he couldn’t quite get the important information out.

“So we get out of this basement and we’d been down there so long that I’d forgotten it was still daytime outside. It’s like that feeling you get when you come out of the movie theatre and the sun’s still out and you’re like, ‘Well that’s not right-‘”

“Kevin.”

“We walked back up the path, me and Scott – Scott’s this guy I work with that’s just a total knob – and we parked pretty far away because even though there are like twelve apartments in this building there’s no designated parking space, so not only is the street packed with tenant cars, but there’s no actual spot we were meant to park in either, like nothing reserved. It was like this house that had been converted, too many apartments in one building, but like no one’s gonna do anything about it because it’s cheap and if someone reports it then they’ve gotta move and there’s nowhere else that cheap in that neighbourhood, that kind of place. And on the phone all they say is, ‘Just park in front of the building.’ Like, buddy, have you been outside your building in the past ten years? Do you just not go outside ever? Or do you just choose to ignore the mini parking lot your street has become?”

“Kevin.”

“Right. So, we’re walking to the van and I’m feeling shitty and I know when we get back there’s gonna be another terrible job waiting for us and I’m like, ‘Is this really my life forever?’”

“Kevin, what happened?”

Connor was getting impatient and, to be honest, so was Kevin, so he swallowed back everything else he had bubbling away in his head and managed to produce the words, “I got a phone call.”

Connor’s eyes lit up and he grabbed Kevin’s shoulders in anticipation. “The studio?” he asked.

The smile on Kevin’s face somehow managed to get even bigger and he nodded.

“You got the part?!” Connor cried out.

“No.”

Confusion registered on Connor’s face after a moment of blank shock, but Kevin’s excitement refused to be wilted.

“I didn’t get the part, but they offered me a role in a short they’re producing instead. It’s nothing to retire on, but it’s real! It’s something that’s happening!”

“Kevin, that’s fantastic,” Connor said, the joy returning to him. “What did your dad say?”

Kevin’s smile faltered and while he didn’t exactly regret his rashness, it was beginning to dawn on him that he may have been making a mistake. “I haven’t talked to him yet.”

“You didn’t tell him when you got back?”

“I… haven’t gone back yet.”

Connor laughed in disbelief, walking around Kevin to close the door, which had been sitting open throughout the conversation. “You came here straight after you got the call?”

“Yeah, I… I wanted to tell you.” He stood in mild embarrassment for a moment before admitting, “I told Scott you had called and needed something done. Said it would only take a second.”

“He’s…”

“Yeah, he’s waiting in the van.”

Connor stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. The realization of how ridiculous that must be, how stupid he must have been to make up a lie like that just to come tell Connor, was enough that he couldn’t resist the laughter simmering in his own throat. “You left your coworker in a van outside so you could come up here and tell me that?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s incredible. Does he have any idea?”

Kevin laughed and shook his head. “No.”

“Is that why you brought your kit with you?”

Kevin looked down at his kit in amazement. It had entirely slipped his mind. The excitement had been so all-consuming he barely remembered the ride over, had basically floated up to the 15th floor. “I didn’t even think of it,” he said. “I guess it’s just second nature now.”

“Good thing, too.” Connor stepped forward with a glint in his eye and placed both palms on Kevin’s stomach. “Since you’re up here and since he thinks you’re working and since the occasion deserves a celebration, do you wanna…?”

He quirked his eyebrow suggestively and his eyes darted towards the bedroom and had Kevin taken a second to think he may have said something else, but since he already had the proposal locked and loaded it came out of his mouth regardless of what Connor was suggesting. “Do you wanna go for dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Connor looked taken aback and Kevin would have been worried had his nerves not been jittering with excitement. “Um, yeah,” Connor said, still slightly shocked. “Yeah, I’d… I’d really like that, actually, um…”

“It’s just, y’know,” Kevin said with a shrug. “I want to thank you properly for helping me get this and I don’t think… doing that would really be-“

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it. I want you to say it.”

“Having sex?”

“No, say it.”

Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you getting dicked down would be a proper thanks.”

Connor gave a delighted grin. “Kevin,” he said, his voice very mannerly, “I would be honoured to go to dinner with you tomorrow night.” His put-on demeanor fell a little and the smile he gave Kevin was oddly sincere. “You really don’t have to, though. Like you said, it’s just a short, it’s not like I got you the starring role in a major motion picture or something. I didn’t even really get it for you, I just gave you a number.”

“But that’s where it starts,” Kevin insisted. “This is just one short, but I’ll get to do what I always wanted to do and even if that doesn’t lead me anywhere I still got to do it. I still get to be more than just a plumber, even if it’s just for one day.” God, when did his heart start aching like this? When was the last time he had felt his hopeful for his future? “And besides all that,” Kevin said quietly, “I really like you. And I’d like to take you out somewhere.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time dinner came after the show,” Connor said wryly and Kevin wasn’t sure if the comment should worry him or not so he smiled and decided it probably didn’t matter. “But since you are here,” Connor said as he snaked his hands around Kevin’s back. “And since you’ve bought some time, and since thanking me isn’t technically a celebration…”

Kevin stared at him, trying to figure out if the amount of time it would take would be conspicuous to Scott or not and whether his brain or his body were to be listened to he eventually sided with his body and said, “Alright, but I don’t have much time so-“ and Connor didn’t even give him a chance to finish before he was kissing him through a grin.

They allowed themselves more time than they probably should have. Before leaving, Kevin asked three times if he looked the right kind of worn out, work wearied rather than the reality, and Connor assured him and shooed him out of the condo with the promise he would call in a leaky pipe sometime the following week. He was nervous by the time he reached the van, his excitement and subsequent satisfaction drowned out by the worry that he would be found out. But he smoothed his features and threw his kit in the back and climbed into the passenger seat with a nod to his coworker who looked suspiciously unbothered by the wait.

As Scott started up the van and Kevin did his seatbelt, Scott casually asked, “You fuckin’ him?”

Kevin blanched. He cleared his throat to answer, but could only say, “Um,” in his morbid terror.

But Scott shook his head and said, “S’okay if you are. I’m fuckin’ Lydia Bower over on Aberforth. Keep it to solo jobs, though, or might get back to your dad.”

They peeled out and Scott didn’t once turn to look at him, grizzled profile resolutely pointed out the windshield. Kevin nodded, in shock as his brain attempted to process the amount of danger he had just avoided. Then he looked out to the road and their usual formal silence settled over the van, and Kevin tried to decide how to feel that of all his coworkers it was Scott who was offering him life advice. If it could be called life advice. And, more importantly, he tried to decide what to tell his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Okay. Fine. One more chapter. Fine.


	4. Everything's Going to be Fine

Kevin took a sip of his coffee as he stared up at the poster.

Vertigo.

Kevin had never seen a Hitchcock movie before, his family wasn’t the kind to watch that sort of thing. But the white patterns on red, the warped people set over it, they were almost mesmerizing. Of all the posters hanging in Connor’s condo it was the one that felt the most viscerally disturbing. But maybe that was just Kevin.

“Good morning.”

Connor emerged from his room clad only in his briefs and looking wonderfully sleepy. It seemed impossible that Kevin could ever get tired of seeing Connor naked. His skin was so pale, his freckles so unpredictable, his belly (Kevin absolutely loved his belly) was so soft.

“Good morning,” Kevin replied and returned his attention to the poster.

Connor came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder to follow his gaze. “What’re you thinking?”

Kevin hadn’t bothered to put much on more than his pants, but planted a hand in his pocket and enjoyed the press of a body against his own.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I think it might be a bit too early to be thinking much at all.”

“It’s almost ten.”

“Christ, is it really?”

“Yeah.” Connor planted a kiss on Kevin’s neck before detaching himself and wandering over to the kitchen. “What time do you have to get back?”

“I’m not sure.”

He hadn’t meant to spend the night. He didn’t regret it, though, so he couldn’t really consider it a mistake beyond the fact that his family would likely notice he hadn’t come home. It was getting harder and harder to come up with reasonable excuses these days and it was only his second time spending the night. If the last time was anything to go by, these lapses in time-management were significantly harder to cover than the usual absences.

“You’re not working today, are you?” Connor asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

After the first time Kevin had spent the night he had made sure to buy Connor some proper coffee, absolutely horrified that he was using instant despite having a perfectly serviceable coffee maker. “I don’t even like coffee that much,” Connor had said, though he seemed to have developed a taste for Kevin’s very quickly.

And Kevin didn’t have to work that day, which was about the only reason he had allowed himself the luxury of a cup just then. So he said, “No, not today,” as he moseyed over to where Connor was leaning up against the kitchen counter, cradling his mug.

“You could stick around if you wanted,” Connor said. “I have a doctors appointment later today, but the rest of the day’s probably just a write-off.”

“Your foot?”

“I’m hoping he’s going to give me the go-ahead to start dancing again in September. Only going to the gym three days a week, I’m getting really out of shape. But he won’t let me go more just in case I irritate the… bone plates or whatever.”

Kevin leaned up next to him and smiled. “Your medical knowledge astounds me.” He reached down to take Connor’s mug from him and, though Connor protested, he didn’t stop Kevin from taking a sip before handing it back.

“You’ve got your own cup, thank you very much.”

“But yours has sugar in it,” Kevin pointed out.

“Yours could too if you figured out how to operate the sugar bowl.”

“Makes me too jittery. I’d rather just steal yours.”

Connor rolled his eyes and laughed. Then he pushed off the counter to retreat to the couch. The morning sun was bathing the condo in a beautiful bright light from the south-facing windows and no matter how much time Kevin spent there he never lost any sense of wonder. As Connor flopped down onto the couch, miraculously avoiding spilling his coffee, the sunlight lit him up like snow. One glowing leg dangled off the arm, the only thing Kevin could see of him, and he said, “I open my home to him and he steals my coffee.”

“Need I remind you who bought you the coffee in the first place?” Kevin approached the couch with a grin and peered over the back. “And how do you intend to drink lying down?”

“Are you going to stay or not?” Connor asked, tilting his chin up to squint up at him.

Kevin leaned against the back of the couch and took a sip, smile halfway to beaming. “I shouldn’t,” he said, wishing it weren’t true, but knowing there was no way he could get away with a second full day away from his family. It was bad enough he had been gone since 3pm the previous day, the longer he was gone the more questions he would have to field. “Although,” he said, “I’m going to have to put up with questions either way.”

A hand reached up into the air and Kevin took it as an insistent invitation. He rounded the couch and sat down near Connor’s feet, feet that quickly took up residence of his lap. Connor looked happy as could be and closed his eyes, basking in the morning light streaming in from the balcony. “Big, open apartments are nice and get a lot of light,” he said softly, “but nothing makes you feel lonelier than being able to see every room at once and knowing you’re the only one in them.”

Kevin’s face softened as his eyes flicked down to his coffee and then up to the window. He liked the light. He liked being with Connor and being in his home and sharing his coffee and sharing his morning and he liked his life. And he knew the moment he went home all of that would disappear as though it had never happened. Happiness that is dependent on location and company can be difficult to hold on to when one realizes that situations change.

Considering this for a moment, he set the mug down on the coffee table before taking Connor’s and placing it there as well. Connor’s hands put up no resistance and fell to his chest lightly, skin smooth and luminous, and Kevin did his best to lean over him. Connor’s legs bent to accommodate the movement, but Kevin found he couldn’t quite reach Connor’s face like this. So instead, he kissed his collarbone and wrapped his arms around his chest before leaning his head onto Connor’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

Coffee-lover though he was, caffeine had never had a very strong affect on him. Sugar, sure, but otherwise coffee was barely a pinch to the arm in the face of sleep.

Connor’s arms wrapped around him and they lay entangled in one another in the sunlight and after a long moment the chest beneath Kevin began to quiver with laughter.

“What?” he asked.

Connor let some of the giggles fall from his mouth as he said, “You’re so clingy,” before tightening his arms around Kevin and burying his face in his hair.

“You store your socks in shower drains just to see me, I don’t think you can really-“

Connor shushed him blissfully and Kevin made to protest, but Connor only shushed him again and patted his head absently.

“I do have to go home eventually.”

“You can leave whenever you want,” Connor replied and his tone made it clear he was miles away.

His heartbeat was a steady thrum beneath his ribs and Kevin had never particularly liked the sound of heartbeats, found them creepy and uncomfortable, but Connor’s was soothing. Maybe he was still just tired, but the sound was beginning to put him to sleep. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew there was something important he had intended to do that day and if he didn’t do it soon then he would lose his nerve.

“I’m gonna tell my dad,” Kevin said quietly.

“Hm?”

“I’ve been meaning to do it for a while, I’m gonna tell him today.”

“About what?” Connor asked, his voice a vibration under Kevin’s temple.

“The job,” he said. “I want to try again – to get a voice acting gig, I mean – and if I’m gonna do that then I have to tell him.”

Connor didn’t respond for a while, his thumb rubbing lightly against Kevin’s shoulder. And then he said, “When are you gonna do it?”

Kevin sat up, leaning on one hand to half hang over Connor and half look out the window. He had enough anxiety of his own rushing through him, he didn’t need to see more on Connor’s face. “As soon as I can.”

“Like… call him, or…?”

Kevin’s eyes darted over to Connor and found him frowning rather than worried and found some strength in that steadiness. “I thought about waiting until I saw him, but I think it’d be easier to do over the phone than in person.”

Connor nodded. “Okay, right. Did you… Did you want me here, or are you going to wait until after?”

“I’d really appreciate it if you were here.”

“Sure, okay.”

Connor sat up too, forcing Kevin to sit back, and he looked like the seriousness had taken him by surprise and was trying to roll with it. Kevin felt a little bad about springing this on him, probably should have told him last night or told him after the fact. But he really was scared to tell his father and would appreciate a hand to hold, metaphorically or no. And giving himself the opportunity to back out just wasn’t an option.

“Did you want to do it right now?” Connor asked, and Kevin wasn’t really sure.

“I guess,” he said.

“You don’t have to, you can wait.”

“No, I want to. If I don’t now then I don’t know when I would.”

“Okay.” Connor retracted his legs and reached for his coffee, taking a caffeine hit before attempting to traverse the as of yet highly unexplored territory of serious topics in their relationship. “Make sure to tell him about the short you already did,” he said. “If he knows you’ve already gotten work he can’t possibly think it’s a bad idea.”

“Do you think he would?” Kevin asked, because he wasn’t exactly concerned with his father’s perception of voice acting as a bad field to be in, but more with the fact that it was a field that wasn’t plumbing.

“Jack is going to take over for me when I retire,” Mr. Price had told the boys when they were young. “But that doesn’t let the rest of you off the hook. I still expect great things from each and every one of you. I’ll make great plumbers of you yet.” And the speeches had never been directed specifically at Kevin, but they always felt like it. As the second son, Kevin had only barely missed the position of inheritor and it felt almost like an accident some days, or even a misstep, which he knew was ridiculous since he had no say in the matter (even more so considering he didn't even want it).

When Kevin was finally brought into the business after his mission there had been a more serious and intimate conversation about expectation and the family line, and it had boiled down to the thought of, “make me proud,” but all Kevin had heard was, “don’t screw this up.” But weren’t they really one and the same?

“I think he’d be proud of you no matter what,” Connor said, brushing some of Kevin’s hair back up out of his forehead. “I don’t really know a lot about him, but you’re an amazing person, Kevin, and any parent would be proud to call you their son.”

Warm affection spread in Kevin’s chest and into his smile, but the fear still buzzed in all his limbs. “I’m gonna do it now,” he said with conviction he didn’t feel. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “I’m going to call him and tell him and everything is going to be okay.” He found the contact and let his thumb hover over call for a moment before pressing down determinedly. “And it’s not like I’m leaving the family business,” he said, pressing the ringing phone to his ear. “I don’t expect to make a living wage right away-“

“Hey, Kevin.”

All saliva made a swift exit from Kevin’s mouth and he had to dig down deep into his well of determination to make his mouth say, “Hey, Dad.”

“Where are you? We were expecting you back last night. Did you have a good time?”

“Uh- Yeah, I did, it was… fun.” Kevin had told his dad he had been going out with friends last night, which was a big laugh for him considering he didn’t have any friends. While he had been stuck in that town working for his dad, all of his friends had picked up and moved on and left him behind. But not Connor, who was currently gripping Kevin’s knee and trying to look reassuring. And if Kevin had any doubt of what he was going to admit to his dad, all of it vanished in an instant. “Hey, dad,” he said, still looking at Connor, “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” Mr. Price replied, sounding wary and a little impatient, and Kevin had to swallow down a lie to try to get the truth out.

“I spent last night on a date,” he said, “with my boyfriend.” And his heart was racing in his chest and there was confusion on Connor’s face and silence on the phone and Kevin smiled sheepishly and said, “If… he’s okay with me calling him that, that is.” Because they hadn’t had that conversation. But Kevin hoped.

That hope was rewarded with Connor nodded and mouthing, “Obviously, you idiot,” and motioning frantically for him to continue. And it wasn’t exactly relief that struck Kevin, but something closer to satisfaction. Right up until he realized his father still hadn’t said anything.

“Dad?”

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” Mr. Price asked, and Kevin couldn’t tell what kind of tone he was using, but forged ahead anyways.

“I’ve been doing auditions,” Kevin said, “for voice acting gigs. It’s something I’ve always really wanted to do and I’m really excited about it and I thought you should know.” Connor hit his knee a couple of times, giving him a meaningful look. “I actually already got one. Just a short,” he rushed to say, like it was any less exciting for him, “but I recorded lines for it last week and I would really appreciate it if you would watch it with me when it’s finished.”

“I see.”

“And I’m not going to stop plumbing,” Kevin spat out, hurriedly, worried he was losing him. “I’m getting paid for the short, obviously, but I don’t expect I’ll make much at the beginning and I’m going to keep working full time with the company – or part time at least – until I get my footing, which I don’t know if it’ll happen at all, to be honest, but I’m hopeful and I want you to be hopeful too because I really do want this and it’s exciting and it might actually be something I’m really passionate about and-“

“Kevin.”

Kevin fell silent.

“Does it really make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m happy too.”

Kevin’s whole body went nearly numb and his eyes widened in a way that made Connor look extremely concerned and Kevin had to shake his head to tell him that, no, he was fine, everything was fine. “You are?”

“Yes. Kevin, anyone with eyes can see you’re not cut out for plumbing. I’m not going to force you into a career that makes you miserable. And, to be honest, you’re not very good at it. I love you, son, you’ve got a lot of guts in you, but you’re a terrible plumber.”

Kevin laughed. “Yeah, I’m well aware.”

“If voice acting is going to make you happy, then I’m all for it. And maybe we can get your brother, Frankie, on the roster. He’s been bugging me for work, maybe you can give him a hand. Kid’s good with a wrench, but you’ve always been the smooth talker. I’d rather not let him loose on a client without a little supervision just yet.”

“Absolutely.” It was like light was shining through Kevin, lighting up his face and warming his heart. He could never have expected it to go anywhere near as well as it was and he was almost having a hard time believing the words he was hearing. He half expected his dad to take it all back and ground him for eternity, but the moment never came.

“You’ve got a boyfriend, eh?”

And Kevin’s familiar old friend, cold terror, was back at it. “Yes.”

“Is he there with you right now?”

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Connor.”

Connor’s eyebrows shot up at the sound of his name and his eyes searched Kevin for any sign of context. Kevin could only put a hand on his shoulder, both as reassurance and to ground himself and Connor covered his hand with his own.

“Put him on the phone,” said Mr. Price.

Wordlessly, Kevin held out the phone to Connor who looked like his brain was trying to decide whether to be stoic or mortified, but he took it regardless. “Hello?” he said. And then, “Yes, sir.” And he was clearly trying to push his voice down to a lower octave in a way that mystified Kevin. “Sure thing, Brian.”

“What are you doing?” Kevin hissed.

“I don’t know, I’m panicking,” Connor hissed back emphatically, tearing the phone away from his ear only to bring it right back up and say, “Okay?” in a tone closer to his usual voice.

Kevin scrubbed a hand across his face.

There was a long moment of silence, Connor’s eyes searching the air as he listened to whatever it was that Mr. Price was telling him, and Kevin wondered if he had made the right choice. Perhaps it had been too much to tell his father both secrets in the same electric moment. Maybe he should have waited a little longer to tell him about Connor. Maybe he shouldn’t have told him about Connor at all. Connor and voice acting were the only things up until then that really qualified his life as “secretive” (previous intimate encounters notwithstanding) and he wondered if it meant something that both of those things were out in the open now.

Never mind the reaction, the simple fact that Kevin essentially had no secrets from his father anymore, on the broader scale of things, on the level where things actually mattered, was mindboggling. Did this mean they were close now? Did this mean he would start telling him things now? No more secrets? No more hiding? And what about the rest of his family? Would Mr. Price tell them as well?

Of course he would. Kevin blanched as he realized that now that his dad knew, it was only a matter of time until his mother knew, and then his brothers, his sister, grandparents, neighbours, coworkers. Scott knew, but the man was an enigma so it was no basis for prediction.

“Of course,” said Connor, yanking Kevin back into the present. His eyes were locked on Kevin and Kevin realized he had been staring straight through him in what probably looked like absolute terror. “I’ll do my best,” Connor said. “Thank you. Goodbye.” He hung up and took a moment to breathe before saying, “Your dad is possibly the most terrifying man I have ever spoken to in my life, and that’s saying something.”

“What did he say?” Kevin exclaimed, barely resisting the urge to grab Connor by the shoulders and shake him.

Well,” Connor said as Kevin gripped the upholstery, “he said to call him Brian, and he said that you have good taste, but that he’ll wait until he meets me himself to make any judgments. He said if I ever do anything to you I’ll have him and his three other sons and one daughter to answer to, as well as his wife who he implied very heavily knows how to kill a man. Then he invited me to dinner at your place next week and told me not to fuck it up.”

“But he wasn’t angry?”

“No. Or… he seemed stern, but from what you’ve told me-“

“Oh thank god,” Kevin said falling to his back against the arm of the couch. “Now I just have to wait for the regret and panic to pass and everything will be golden.”

Connor laughed. “Kevin, oh my god.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“I know!”

“I’m so proud of you!”

Kevin laughed too and covered his face with his hands. Was he going into shock? It was hard to say, but he was feeling pretty lightheaded. “Was it a mistake?” he asked through his laughs. “Did I- Did I even consider… the possibility that this would backfire spectacularly? He’s going to tell my mom, Connor. He’s going to tell Jack and Frankie and Claire and Evan and holy shit.” He sat up, nearly in tears he was laughing so hard. “Dinner? He asked you to fucking dinner?”

“Kevin, calm down,” Connor said, though he was laughing just as hysterically. “It’ll be fine! Great, even! Parents love me!”

“I think I’m going to physically be sick,” Kevin guffawed.

Connor managed to reign in some of his laughter, downgrading it to giggles, and took Kevin’s face into his hands. “It’s going to be okay,” he said, face red and eyes a little teary as well. “You did it, you told him. And you haven’t even told me what he said about the voice-acting thing yet.”

“He told me,” Kevin said, breathing deeply as he calmed himself down, “that if I’m happy then he’s happy.”

The warmth in Connor’s face multiplied. “God, Kevin, your dad loves you so much.”

The sentence was like a small explosion, deep in the bowels of Kevin’s heart. Something about it struck him so deeply and so perfectly that it was almost surprising that he didn’t burst into tears.

It had never occurred to Kevin that his dad loved him. It felt odd to realize it, but in the face of religion and business and school and everything else in Kevin’s life he had never stopped and wondered if Mr. Price loved him. And now suddenly he did. A revelation. Brian Price loved him and he loved him enough to let him exist in whatever way he felt was right and that was what made the shock of the phone call fall away into a different shock altogether.

“He loves me,” Kevin said quietly.

And the understanding of exactly what that soft phrase meant presented itself in Connor’s face as he smiled gently and nodded and said, “Yes. He does.”

The pressure Kevin had felt his whole life suddenly meant something else. He couldn’t understand it, but he knew something had changed.

Connor kissed his forehead and got up, taking his mug with him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get dressed and then you can take me out to breakfast.”

Kevin followed him, lost in thought. “He loves me,” he muttered again.

He made it as far as the doorway to Connor’s room before he had to stop. He leaned up against the frame and explored the light feeling ebbing through his body as Connor got dressed. He watched him find a shirt and some pants and another shirt and some socks, and as he was shifting through his laundry for a belt, Kevin said to him, “Connor?”

Connor looked up, hair a mess, still bent over his laundry basket. “Yeah?”

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said, “isn’t it?”

And Connor smiled again, making the feeling flow, and said, “Everything’s going to be great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's it, we're done. Goodbye folks, it was nice writing for you.
> 
> -G


End file.
